xp_logs | LOG: At the party, Doug and Forge (Reply)

At the party, Doug and Forge finally have a face-to-face conversation. It goes as well as one would expect. Which is to say not at all.

Doug stood off to one side of the room, sipping from a glass of water.
Playing with People Covered In Fish was always fun, but he kind of
wished that Marie-Ange was there so that he could dance with her, not
to mention that managing without their bass player had been sort of
interesting. He was trying not to be too much of a rain cloud,
though, mostly content to watch everyone else have a good time. He
laughed a bit at the image of Catseye in a suit, as apparently nobody
had been able to convince her to wear a dress.

Forge paused to catch his breath, leaning against one of the
ballroom's many columns. Wanda had neglected to tell him dancing could
really be strenuous. He was definitely enjoying himself, however. The
leg's adjustments were holding up fine, and he'd only stepped on
Carlie's feet the once, and she was more than forgiving. The fact that
some of the other girls had actually asked him to dance was
still confusing him, but for tonight, he wasn't questioning it.

Politely waving off another request with a promise for later, Forge
headed over to the refreshments table. Hm, he noticed with a
small degree of curiosity, didn't expect Ramsey to be playing
wallflower.

"Music not your style?" Forge asked, filling a plastic cup with water
and taking a long drink.

Doug sipped from his own cup to cover his surprise at Forge initiating
what seemed to be a polite conversation. From the way the resident
genius with machines had acted over the journal system, Doug couldn't
shake the feeling that Forge didn't like him very much.

"More a lack of dance partner," Doug replied. "With Marie-Ange down
in New Orleans, not much opportunity. I might get a few dances in,
but I don't mind laying a bit low tonight."

"Right, right," Forge said slowly. "Well, it's not like there's a lack
of women here. If you think you can get Sharon - Catseye," he
corrected himself, "to actually stop fidgeting and complaining long
enough to dance, that'd be a coup."

He cocked his head to the side, almost as if noticing something new
about Doug. "You really don't do a lot without her these days, do
you?" he asked. "How in the world did you ever get by before?"

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand there was Forge putting his foot in his mouth, right
on schedule. "Just fine," Doug said a bit curtly. "It's not as
though we're surgically attached or anything." He covered his
frustration with another sip from his cup of water.

"Oh, of course not," Forge took a quick drink to hide a smug smile.
"Wouldn't suggest it. I have to admit though, between you and me,
Carlie sure can dance. Dr. Bartlett's sister, have you met her?" When
Doug didn't immediately respond, Forge's smile turned into a scowl.
"Oh, or is tonight back to slumming with the nerds and geeks, then?"

It would be very impolite to put his fist through Forge's face. That
and it'd probably earn him another week of 5AM runs with Mr. Summers
at the least. Doug kept repeating that to himself while counting down
from ten in Askani. Then Mandarin. And finally Sanskrit for good
measure. "You know what?" he asked coldly. "Fuck all of you and your
damn assumptions about me. You, Kyle, _all_ of you." And with that,
Doug placed his cup of water down very carefully to avoid throwing it
at Forge, and walked crisply toward the door. Maybe he could go take
out some frustrations on the heavy bag.

"Hey!" Forge called, reaching out to try and grab Doug's shoulder, but
only getting a handful of jacket instead. "Hit a nerve, huh? Welcome
to how the other half lives, or had you forgotten?" He glanced around
quickly, assuring that no one had noticed him practically chasing
after Doug.

"In case you haven't noticed, you've got it pretty fucking good here.
The hot girlfriend, the band, everyone loves you. Mister big man on
campus. Pretty big step up, huh? Enough to where you forget where you
came from?" He glared up at Doug, jamming his hands in his jacket
pockets. "Some of us don't get that handed to us - you might want to
remember that when you feel like going on one of those whining fits
because your life of privilege gets put on hold for a few days."

"Life of privelege?" Doug asked incredulously, spinning around. "Is
_that_ what you think it is? Constantly sitting here, waiting for the
other shoe to drop? Because god knows that people seem to either envy
this life of privelege they think I have, or find it impossible to
believe that someone as nerdy as me can be cool. Kyle thinks I'm
goddamn TWINS!"

"Kyle may be one of the best friends I've got," Forge admitted, "but
he's a bit of a tool at times. And yeah - envy's a good word for it.
I'll man up and admit it - I can't figure out for the life of me how
you've managed it. You're brilliant - even beside your power and I
swear if that gets out that I said that, I'll make your life a living
hell." Forge balled up his fists at his sides, "And yet people still
think you're the coolest goddamn thing since sliced bread and it is
not supposed to work like that."

Doug snorted. "Tell me about it. I had this huge fight with Angie
about it. About not understanding what she sees in me. And she
finally got sick of me basically questioning her taste and told me to
fish or cut bait. So I just shut up about it. But that doesn't mean
I don't spend some days just waiting for the other shoe to drop," he
said quietly.

"Quit questioning it," Forge responded quietly. "You don't think this
is weird for me? Look, I got the double whammy of being smarter than
everyone else, PLUS being a freak," he held up his hand for emphasis,
"and still everyone here treats me like a normal person. Do you have
any idea what kind of mental whiplash that's still giving me? My own
family doesn't bother treating me like a person. And you worry
because you've got it TOO good? We should all be so cursed."

Doug sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Don't get me wrong. I
love that everyone here treats me like a regular person. But that
doesn't change the fact that there are people out there with guns and
bullets with our names on them. We've had government agents raid this
mansion before. And I thought HeliX was our best tool for combating
bigotry like that, and then someone came along and torched the damn
coffehouse!" In the back of his mind, Doug was aware that he was
being a little melodramatic and maybe taking too much frustration out
on Forge, but once he started, it was rather difficult to stop.

"And that's bugging you?" Forge barked a quick laugh. "Look, no
offense, but you guys hit one speed bump here and everyone's jumping
out of the car. You need to start changing the focus there. Think
bigger. And if you're still hung up about the world hating you for
what you are, start remembering what you are." Forge grinned
and looked down at his hands. "Different. Special. Better. If
that's not enough, maybe you're in the wrong place."

The music changed again and the ballroom was still, then suddenly back
in motion as people began to find partners and start moving. Forge
slammed back the rest of his water. "Well," he announced, "I think I
owe someone a dance. Pretty sure I've had all the irony I can stand
for one day."

"Yeah, have fun," Doug said a bit dismissively. He wasn't as angry as
he had been. Venting at Forge had been good for that. But he was
still more than a little conflicted and frustrated.